Snoggletog
by QueenAurora
Summary: Snoggletog has arrived on Berk, and Stoick is ready to celebrate it with his five-year-old son. But when little Hiccup ends up in a snowball fight with his cousin Snotlout and things get a little out off hand, can he still enjoy it?


_To my loyal followers: I won't be updating Return of the Dragon Rider today, and most likely not tomorrow either. I will try to update the 26__th__, but I'm not sure if I can make that._

_To every one who randomly found this story (and my followers of course): This is the third one-shot in a series I have written. It features Hiccup as a five-year-old. The other two one-shots with five-year-old Hiccup are Fly Swatter War and Bath time, should you be interested._

_So, little one-shot about Snoggletog._

_Enjoy!_

**Snoggletog**

Stoick sighed as he watched Hiccup run around the table. He had to dress the boy, but so far he had only succeeded in getting him in his pants. Hiccup always bubbled with energy in the morning, but today it seemed even worse.

'Hiccup. Come here son. Let me get you in your shirt.'

Hiccup stopped his running around for a moment, just long enough for Stoick to pull the shirt over his head and his right arm in the sleeve. Before he could do the left, Hiccup was gone again, running around the table, squealing with joy when he found out the empty sleeve followed his every move.

'Hiccup...'

The boy stopped running and looked at his father. Stoick spread his arms and Hiccup ran into them, his own small arms not even reaching halfway around his fathers broad chest. Stoick quickly pulled Hiccup's other arm through the sleeve and picked the child up in his arms to set him down in his boots. Then he picked up his own helmet and walked to the door.

'Come on Hiccup, time to go.'

As soon as the door was open, Hiccup ran past his father, plunging head first into the thick snow. He was stuck immediately, wriggling to get out. Stoick sighed and grabbed Hiccup's foot, pulling him out of the snow. He carried the boy on his shoulders down to the plaza where they ran into Astrid.

'Astrid! Astrid!'

Hiccup was bouncing on Stoick's shoulders and he set the boy down. Hiccup looked up at his father, then at the girl. Stoick nodded and the two kids ran off. Stoick watched them disappear behind one of the houses, the continued on to the Great Hall.

The entire town was decorated. They had build a wooden tree in the center of the plaza, adorned with all their shields. There were lanterns on all the houses, some with burning candles. The snow that was covering the village only added to the holiday spirit. The Great Hall was also decorated. The banners from all the families hung from the roof. Ropes with lanterns extended from the center beam to the walls, the tables were filled with food and the fire had been stoked high. Gobber was wearing his holiday helmet as he called it, a very ugly thing. He waved when he saw Stoick enter and hobbled over.

'Happy Snoggletog Stoick!'

Happy Snoggletog to you to Gobber.'

'Where is tha' son of yer's?'

'He's out playing with Astrid. I don't know where he is.'

'Ah he'll be fine.'

Stoick smiled. The Hall quickly filled up with vikings and soon he had no time to worry about his son or the other children. He was to caught up in Happy Snoggletogs and chitchat to even think about the boy.

Until the door opened and Hiccup came in crying, his hands on his head, flanked by a very angry Astrid. As soon as Stoick saw his son come in, he rushed over to the child, picking him up.

'What happened?' He asked Astrid.

'We... we held a snowball fight. Hiccup and me against Snotlout and the twins.' Stoick now noticed that little clumps of snow clung to her hair and clothes, same with Hiccup. 'Snotlout covered a rock with snow and threw that at him.'

Stoick frowned and gently pulled Hiccup's arms away from his head. There was a bruise forming on the side of his head, the bump growing quickly. Hiccup's face was wet from tears as he looked at his father, only sniffling now.

'Thank you Astrid. Go find your parents.'

The girl nodded and ran off. Stoick looked down on the child in his arms, Hiccup furiously rubbing his eyes.

'Come on son. Let's get something to eat. It's time for dinner anyway.'

The vikings were gathering at the tables, families sitting together. Stoick took his son on his lap, Hiccup seemed to have forgotten the pain already and was acting like it never even happened. Stoick shot a glare at Spitelout and Snotlout, but wasn't in the mood to get angry. It was Snoggletog after all, the time of cheer and happiness. And Hiccup didn't seem to be too bothered by the bruise on the side of his head, so he left it alone for now.

He made his toast sitting down, not wanting to shove his son of his lap again. After toasting to a good new year, remembering those that weren't there this year and wishing every one a Happy Snoggletog, he set his cup back down on the table.

He got so wrapped up in a conversation with Gobber that he didn't see that Hiccup pulled the cup of ale from the table. He didn't see that the boy took a sip, wrinkling his nose in disgust. He realized it when he went to grab his cup and found it missing. By then Hiccup had pretty much drank it all.

'Hiccup! That's not something you should drink! Give me that!'

He pulled the cup from the boy's hands, replacing it with one that had warm yakmilk in it. He sighed as he looked at the empty cup that had contained ale before Hiccup got his hands on it, and shook his head. He ruffled his son's hair, the boy looking up at him. He smiled at the child, he couldn't stay angry with those shining green eyes

It was late when he carried his son back to the house. Hiccup had fallen asleep halfway through the celebration, and Stoick wasn't sure if it was the ale, the stone to his head or just plain exhaustion that hand knocked him out. The upside was that he would have no trouble getting the child to bed, as was the case on most nights.

He stopped in front of the door, looking up at the sky. The moon shone full and bright and the starts twinkled like many candles in the night sky. All the lanterns were now lit, illuminating the village with a soft orange glow. Hiccup stirred in his arms, opening his eyes.

'Daddy my head hurts.'

'I know Hiccup.'

'I'm tired.'

'I know son, we're going to bed now.'

But before he could turn around, Hiccup gasped and grabbed his beard. 'Daddy! Look, the moon! It's so big!'

Stoick smiled and looked up at the sky again. To him the moon didn't seen particularly bigger than usual, but he could imagine that in the eyes of a five-year-old it had to be huge. He set Hiccup on his shoulders, feeling his son's small hands grip his hair.

He stood there until he felt Hiccup begun to slump forward, then he went inside. He gently put the child to bed, pulling the blanket up to his chin. He brushed the auburn hair from Hiccup's forehead to get a better look at the bruise. The bump was an interesting colour of blue and purple and felt a little warm. It didn't look too serious, either the rock hadn't been that big, or Snotlout couldn't throw that hard. Most likely it had been a combination of both.

Tomorrow he would have a talk with Snotlout about throwing rocks disguised as snowballs at people. Today he would cherish the memories of Snoggletog with his son on his lap, holding the cup with yakmilk in both hands and looking around the Great Hall with wonder. The many lights and candles illuminating the night, coating Berk in a soft orange light.

He smiled as he leaned forward to place a gently kiss on Hiccup's head, the boy smiling in his sleep.

'Happy Snoggletog son.' He whispered before leaving the room, softly closing the door.

_Happy Snoggletog_

_Merry Christmas_


End file.
